Living in the Past

*******

Chapter 5: Summer at the Safe House

"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." -- Benjamin Franklin

*****

"Have a good rest of the summer," Dumbledore said, smiling.

I doubt I will, thought Harry. He took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the fire, which turned a brilliant green. Right before he jumped into the flames, he shouted the name of his destination.

"Malfoy Manor!"

*****

Harry tumbled out of an immense fireplace into a vast room almost as large as the Hogwarts entrance hall. The tall windows let in the fading daylight that illuminated the room. The vaulted ceiling was gilded with gold and the beams were covered with ornate carvings, mostly of snakes and hawks. Harry saw several large, but empty, portrait frames, with equally elaborate carvings. All the furniture in the room had been pushed to the side and covered with white sheets. Harry was speechless, so struck he was by the vibes of wealth and excess that emanated from the walls. Damn, Harry thought. Does this house belong to the Malfoys or the Von Trapps? This room reminds me of the ballroom from "The Sound of Music." Harry sat on the hearth of the fireplace in silence, both admiring the room and feeling guilty for doing so. There was a large set of oak doors opposite him, but he figured he'd wait for someone to come get him. But I'll be damned if they make me share a room with Malfoy, though I'm sure they have some extra rooms in a house this big, he thought. Of course, this house is so big, I'll probably have to take a Portkey to get anywhere in any reasonable amount of time.

Harry sat and thought for awhile more when he heard a distinctive popping sound on his right side. Finally, he thought, they sent one of their house elves to come get me. Heck, if I'm lucky, I may never have to see the Malfoys.

"Harry Potter, sir," said a vaguely familiar squeaky voice beside him. Harry whirled around to his right and saw . . .

"D-Dobby?" Harry asked.

"Dobby is very sorry that Dobby was not here when sir arrived. Dobby was chasing portraits away," Dobby squealed.

"Dobby, what are you doing back at the Malfoys?" Harry asked. "Winky said you had gone on vacation."

Dobby broke into a very wide, beaming grin. His tea cozy was oscillating in time with his bobbing up and down. "Harry Potter, sir, Dobby was not on vacation. Dobby was having to tell Winky that because Master Dumbledore was swearing Dobby to secrecy," Dobby explained.

"Huh?" said Harry. "Wait a minute, I'm confused here. Where are the Malfoys?"

Dobby's beaming grin got even wider. "They is on holiday in Spain, Harry Potter, sir."

"Umm, okay," Harry said. "So, what am I doing here? And what are you doing here?" he asked.

Dobby was bouncing up and down as he always did when he was about to reveal something. "Dobby is here because Dobby knows the passwords to get into old master's house. Dobby is taking Harry Potter to sir's safe house."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "So, I'm not staying at the Malfoys?"

"Oh, no, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said with a gasp of shock. "Dobby's old masters are bad wizards who want to hurt Harry Potter. Sir knows that. Master Dumbledore would never leave sir here. Harry Potter had to pretend sir was going here for protection."

Realization, coupled with relief, hit Harry like the Stupefy curse. "Ohhhhhhh!"

Dobby's tea cozy, which had been leaning precariously on his head, fell to the ground. Dobby jumped with glee and picked it up in one movement. "Sir must hold Dobby's hand, sir, so Dobby can pop with sir to safe house."

"Thanks so much, Dobby," Harry said. "I thought I was going to have to spend a month with the Malfoys. Where is the safe house anyway?"

Harry didn't think Dobby's mouth could go any wider than it already was, but it somehow did. "Ah, Dobby cannot tell sir that. Walls could have ears, sir. Bigger ears than Dobby's even."

"C'mon, Dobby," Harry goaded, but stopped short as Dobby seemed to tense up and his smile shattered.

"Narcissa, I told him I was going on holiday this week, but he insisted I be at the meeting," said a voice outside the doors. Harry recognized it as the cold, clipped speech of Lucius Malfoy.

"We must go now, sir," Dobby hissed. Dobby grabbed Harry's hand, and Harry found that he couldn't separate from Dobby even if he tried. Harry caught one last glimpse of the great oak doors swinging open as he felt himself being twisted and turned almost inside out.

When he felt the twisting stop, he realized he was lying in a ball on the ground. He thought he was going to throw up, so he decided to keep his eyes closed until his body got reoriented.

"Is Harry Potter alright?" Dobby asked.

"Urgh," Harry responded. "I'll tell you in a minute."

"Dobby is very sorry, sir," Dobby said. "Dobby was aiming for inside, but missed because Dobby had to hurry."

"It's okay, Dobby," Harry said, finally trusting himself to open his eyes. He saw that he was on dirty, sandy ground. He remained prone, though. Oh, well. Guess I gotta have my dress robes cleaned, he thought.

"Does Harry Potter have all his parts?" Dobby inquired worriedly.

"Umm, can you let me let go of you so I can check?" Harry asked, for he found that he was still holding onto Dobby and unable to break free.

"Oh, Dobby is sorry, sir," Dobby said, and Harry found he could use his arm again.

"I think I need a drink," Harry said as he stood up and brushed himself off. (Actually, he was surreptitiously checking to see if he still had all his "parts." Well, thankfully I don't have to change my name to Mary Potter, he thought.) "But, other than that, I'm okay," he said as he cleaned his glasses on his robes.

"Welcome to Harry Potter's safe house, sir," Dobby said as Harry put on his glasses and finally got a good look at where he'd be spending the next month.

He was at the Burrow.

Harry looked over at Dobby, who was bouncing up and down and laughing and giggling at Harry. "Pinch me, I'm dreaming," Harry said.

"If sir is wanting that," Dobby said, and gave Harry a very hard pinch.

"Ouch," Harry said, and thereby determined that he wasn't dreaming.

"Harry Potter is safe with his Wheezy now. Dobby must go back to Hogwarts, sir," Dobby said.

"Okay, Dobby. Thanks so much," Harry said, beaming at him. "See you at Hogwarts."

"Goodbye, Harry Potter," Dobby said, and Harry thought he saw a tear of happiness in Dobby's eye as he popped out of existence.

Harry marched up to the front door of the Burrow and knocked loudly. Harry heard Mr. Weasley's voice say, "I'll get it," as he opened the door.

"Hello, Sir," Harry said. "Can I interest you in a set of encyclopedias?"

Mr. Weasley looked very puzzled. "Umm, Harry?"

"Never mind, it's a Muggle joke. I'll explain it later," Harry said as Mr. Weasley ushered him in. "You all knew about this the whole time?" Harry asked.

"Just me," Mr. Weasley whispered, smiling. "Even Molly's going to be surprised."

As if on cue, a voice from the kitchen called, "Who was at the door, Arthur?"

"Just one of the kids' friends, Molly," Mr. Weasley responded, slightly giggling. "You don't mind if he stays for dinner tonight, do you?"

"No, I don't," Mrs. Weasley replied. "I had extra food for tonight anyway, because Harry was supposed to come, remember. How would you say his appetite compares to Harry's?" she asked.

"I'd say it's about the same," Harry answered.

The sound of stirring suddenly stopped. A short silence. Harry heard a loud clunk and saw an apron-clad Mrs. Weasley glancing out the kitchen. When she saw him, she let out a small scream and ran to embrace Harry.

Harry heard Mr. Weasley say, "Shhh, shhh" to Mrs. Weasley as she was scooping him up in her arms. "Molly, dear, you'll spoil the surprise for Ron," he said.

As Mrs. Weasley released Harry, she started to playfully smack Mr. Weasley on his arms. "Arthur. Weasley. Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me?" she asked, punctuating each word with a smack.

"Because it was best that as few people knew as possible. And also because I thought it would be funny," Mr. Weasley admitted sheepishly.

"Arthur Weasley, if we weren't in front of company, I'd . . ." Mrs. Weasley trailed off.

"You'd do what, darling?" Mr. Weasley said amorously.

"Er," Harry looked to the side nervously as the Weasleys' eyes started twinkling.

Harry was mercifully distracted by Bill descending the stairs. "Hello, Harry, have a pleasant trip?" he asked as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley moved to the kitchen. "Don't worry, I'll take care of Harry," he called to his retreating parents. Their mouths were occupied, so Mr. Weasley gave a small wave indicating he had heard Bill. "Parents," Bill muttered.

"Er, I suppose so," said Harry, who had never seen his Aunt or Uncle do anything of that sort. Harry recalled some of the stories Remus had been telling him before the memorial service and pictured his parents, so in love with each other, doing the same type of thing. It made Harry smile. Harry had tried for thirteen years to not think of his parents at all, as it was too painful. However, Remus had shown Harry his parents in a much different way. He felt like he had somehow gotten another chance to know them, even though they were gone. I'll have to ask him and Sirius to tell me more, Harry thought.

"Hello? Earth to Harry," Bill said, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry, Bill," Harry said. "My mind was elsewhere. How did you know I was going to be here?" he asked.

"Dad told me right before he left because he needed me to accept delivery of your stuff," Bill replied. "Now, here's the plan to surprise Ron. You're going to hide in my room. Then, I'll tell Charlie what's going on, and Charlie'll go ask Ron to show him where he left his broomstick. While Ron's doing that, I'll magic your stuff up to Ron's room, and you sneak up there, too. Just hide behind the door or something. I'll get everyone else to hang out at the foot of the stairs after he goes up so that we can hear him freak out when he sees you. Okay?"

"Wow, you guys really go out of your way to surprise each other," Harry remarked.

Bill laughed. "Well, it's very rare that there are any secrets in this house, so we exploit the opportunity whenever possible. C'mon, let's go."

Bill led Harry up the stairs to the room he and Charlie were staying in, which used to be Percy's room. "Where's Percy?" Harry asked.

"He's probably at work right now, but he finally got his own flat and moved out," Bill replied. "He still Apparates home for dinner every night, though," Bill admitted as he gently knocked on the door.

Harry heard an unfamiliar high-pitched voice say, "Come in." Harry and Bill looked at each other quizzically.

"That you, Charlie?" Bill asked. "Everything alright in there?"

"Yeah, it's me, and everything's fine. Come in," said the high voice again.

"If you say so, Charlie," Bill said with a shrug and opened the door. Harry entered with trepidation.

"Oh, hello, Harry," said Charlie, who sounded like he had inhaled about three helium balloons. "How come you didn't come back with everyone else?"

"Because people aren't supposed to know he's here," Bill explained. "What's up with your voice?"

"Let me guess," said Harry. "Weasley Wizard Wheezes strikes again?"

"Actually, we're just calling it 3W now," one of the twins said behind Harry. Harry turned around and saw both twins standing in the doorway, grinning mischievously.

"Eh," said Harry. "People will either think that you're stealing from 3M, the Post-It company, or that you're an Internet firm."

"What's a Post-It?" asked the left twin.

"What's the Internet?" asked the right twin.

"And what are you doing here?" they both asked simultaneously.

"Small, square, yellow piece of paper with a temporary glue on the back; much too complicated to explain right now; and I'm hiding here for the rest of the summer," Harry replied in order. "Now, what did you do to Charlie?" he asked.

"Us?" asked the left twin. "Frankly, I'm hurt, Harry. Why would you assume--"

"Oh, don't give us that whole 'I'm hurt' spiel, Fred. Please, I invented that," said Charlie, whose voice was now sounding more like a duck's and less like a house-elf's.

"Oh, right. Forgot about that," said Fred.

"You deserve it anyway," said George.

"Yeah, you really ought to quit," said Fred. "Nasty habit."

"I thought that last cigarette tasted funny," quacked Charlie. "What'd you do to it?"

"Well, as Fred so brilliantly discovered in Potions last term--" said George.

"Can I be held responsible for not realizing the fire had gone out beneath my cauldron?" asked Fred.

"Snape certainly believed so."

"Oh, right."

"As I was saying," continued George, "a watery Ventriloquism potion has the odd effect of not throwing the drinker's voice, but merely making it higher."

"So, we nicked your cigs and coated them all with said potion," exclaimed Fred. "Voila! Squeaky Smokes."

Harry sighed. "Are all of your products' names going to alliterate?"

"Hey, leave the marketing to us, Harry," Fred said.

"He's got a point, Fred," George admitted. "I'm not a real fan of that name either. What about Joke Smokes?"

"I like it," said Harry.

"Me, too," said Bill.

"You'd better pay me for those," said Charlie, whose voice was slightly scratchy, but almost back to normal by now.

"They do have a point, Charlie," said Bill. "And if you're going to smoke, at least try to work on your Deodorus charms."

"Hello? Cauldron calling beetle eyes. You're black," Charlie snapped sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Have you smelled your running shoes recently?"

Harry smiled. There was never a dull moment at the Burrow.

Eventually, the good-natured ribbings and banter wound down, and the five of them were finally able to put their plan into action. As soon as Harry heard Ron grumble down the stairs en route to showing Charlie exactly where in the shed he had put Charlie's broomstick, "I put it back exactly where I found it. I don't know why you can't find it," he and Bill brought his stuff up to Ron's room. Harry quickly changed out of his dust-covered dress robes and into his Muggle clothes and hid himself behind the door so that Ron wouldn't see him when he opened it. He heard Ron stomp up the stairs and twist the doorknob.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said in his most casual voice as Ron entered the room.

Ron screamed and jumped several feet in the air.

Harry giggled. "Jeez, Ron, you scream like a girl."

Ron swore. "Which one of them put you up to this?" he asked angrily.

"It was sort of a group effort," explained Harry, "but mostly Bill."

"Hmm, I'll have to get him back for this somehow," said Ron. "I should have known that whole 'safe house' story was made up."

"Er, no, maybe you don't understand," Harry said. "This is my safe house. Nobody knows I'm here except for your family, Dumbledore, and Dobby. I didn't even know until ten minutes ago. Dumbledore tricked me into thinking I was going to stay at the Malfoys."

Ron shuddered. "Now that's a scary thought," he said. "But why does Dobby know?"

Harry told Ron the whole story of how he had gotten to the Burrow, including the near miss at Malfoy Manor.

"I always knew Dumbledore was crazy," exclaimed Ron. "What was he thinking, sending you anywhere near the Malfoys?"

"It's not his fault they came back from vacation earlier than expected," said Harry.

"Still," Ron said, "it seems like he's taking a lot of risks with you."

"What do you mean by that? He's trying to protect me," Harry said indignantly.

"Some job he's doing," Ron said. "First, there's the whole Fidelius Charm thing. He could have insisted that he be the Secret-Keeper for your parents, but he didn't. Then, he sends you to live with those Muggles for ten years--"

"Because the protection spells wouldn't work unless I was with my Aunt Petunia," Harry retorted.

"Well, that's what he says," said Ron.

"And why would he lie?" yelled Harry.

"To justify it to you so he wouldn't have to tell you whatever his real reasons were. Now, let me finish," said Ron. "Then, not once, but TWICE, he wasn't around when you had to go face You-Know-Who alone. He knew enough to have taken care of it himself, but he put you in the line of danger instead, for no reason whatsoever. Then, consider the Sirius thing AND the Triwizard Tournament AND Wormtail attacking you AND sending you to the Malfoys, and it doesn't add up. Finally, he sends you here to 'be safe' when everyone knows that this is the most obvious place for you to be. Not that I'm not happy you're here," Ron quickly added as a look of anger flashed over Harry face.

"Oh, so that's what it's about," Harry said angrily. "I'm putting you at risk from Voldemort now."

Ron would have winced, but he was so caught up in what he was about to say that he didn't. "Harry," he said, "I'm willing to take that risk because I'm your friend. I've done it before, and I'd do it again. You know that. My parents agreed to that risk, too, because I know they love you like another son, not that they didn't have enough before. All I'm saying is that it seems suspicious to me. All these times where Dumbledore could have helped you or stopped something from happening and he didn't."

"But . . . what about . . . that's . . ." Harry stammered into silence.

"See what I mean?" Ron said.

Harry sat in silence for a moment. "No," he said firmly. "No, Ron, you're wrong. Dumbledore -- he wouldn't do that to me."

"He's using you, Harry," Ron said softly. "You're special, and Dumbledore's using that. Even he couldn't defeat You-Know-Who, but you did. You did it three times even. He doesn't care about you. All he wants is You-Know-Who gone."

Harry didn't want to believe what Ron was saying, but it was making a lot of sense. Before, he had thought that Dumbledore thought he had the right to face Voldemort to avenge his parents' deaths. Now, he wasn't sure. For all he knew, Dumbledore did have an ulterior motive for everything.

The more Harry thought about it, the more Harry realized that it was all because of him that this was happening. After all that had happened to him in the past few days, he had been able to put his feelings of guilt aside, but now they came back with a vengeance. Harry mumbled a swear word.

"Are you okay, Harry? I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have brought this up."

"I don't know, Ron. Sometimes I feel like the whole bloody world'd be better off if I had just died there along with Voldemort."

"That's not true, Harry, and you know it."

"I'm not so sure anymore. Think about it. Cedric'd be alive, Voldemort wouldn't be back, you wouldn't be at risk--"

"I also wouldn't have my best friend. C'mon, Harry. You don't know any of that for sure, and playing 'what-if' isn't going to get us anywhere. Let's just drop . . . oh, bloody hell." Harry had started to cry. Again.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said through some mild tears. "I've just been such a wreck lately, and I don't know why, and now I'm dumping it all on you."

"It's okay, Harry, really," reassured Ron. "I mean, take the fact that you bottle up your emotions, add lots of traumatic experiences in a short amount of time, and, just for fun, throw in a dash of hormones, and who can fault you for crying?"

"What d'you mean I bottle up my emotions?" Harry said with a slight laugh, the tears subsiding already.

"Well, you do," Ron said. "I mean, when you were growing up, those Muggles didn't care how you felt, so you probably stopped trying to show it. When you do that, you just keep all the feelings inside of you. Look, I know you have emotions, but you rarely talk about them or show them, and almost never act on them."

Harry sat silently for a moment as he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Ron?" he asked jokingly.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" Ron asked indignantly.

"You sound like a therapist. Like, all mature and stuff," Harry said.

"Mature? I'm insulted," said Ron.

"Now that's the Ron I know," Harry said. "Hey, let's go downstairs and play some Exploding Snap."

Now that's the Harry I know, Ron thought.

***

The Burrow was like Harry's second home; Hogwarts, of course, was his first. He was quickly able to put aside all thoughts of the horrors that had happened to him and his feelings of guilt and suspicion while amongst the Weasley family.

The days passed quickly as Harry enjoyed Mrs. Weasley's extravagant cooking and pickup games of Quidditch (though they had to take turns since Harry didn't have his own broom yet). Harry remembered to send Hermione a note with Ariel saying that he was sorry he didn't get to say goodbye at the service and that he had arrived at the "safe house" safely, though he couldn't tell her where it was.

One morning, Harry woke up and found that Ron wasn't in his bed. This was a very unusual occurrence, since Ron tended to be the one who slept in. I must have slept later than usual, Harry thought as he put on his glasses. He had no way of knowing the time, as he had broken his watch by wearing it underwater last year during the second task of the Triwizard tournament. Hmm, maybe I'll get one for my birthday, he thought as he walked down the stairs in his pajamas. As he stepped around the corner of the last set of stairs into the living room, Harry realized three things basically at the same time.

The first was that the house was too quiet for a typical morning at the Burrow.

Secondly, there seemed to be quite a lot of people in the living room.

And, now that he thought about it, his birthday was, in fact, today.

"Surprise!" came shouts from people all around him.

Harry was completely floored. He had never even had a birthday party before, much less a surprise one.

"Oh, my God," Harry said in shock. "Wow." That was basically all he could get out at that point.

He looked around the room and saw all the Weasleys (including Percy, which was a pretty impressive feat on his parents' parts, considering how much he hated missing work), Sirius, Remus, Arabella, Hagrid, who was there via a magical fire, and, to Harry's great surprise, Hermione.

"Wow," Harry said once again. "Thanks so much. Er, I'm feeling a bit underdressed for the occasion." The assembled crowd laughed. "Anyone mind if I go shower and change?"

"Er, I can't stay too long, Harry," said Hagrid from the fire. "So just let me wish you Happy 15^th Birthday, and yer present should be arriving later today."

"Thanks, Hagrid. Glad you could make it. Hope everything's going okay with, Er, whatever it is you're doing," Harry said.

"Well, ter be honest, it's not goin' too well right now, but we'll just have to wait and see," Hagrid replied.

"Good luck then," Harry said. Hagrid gave Harry a great big smile before vanishing from the fireplace with a pop.

Harry went upstairs, took a very quick shower (which is easy to do in a wizard shower, since it yells at you if you're taking too long), and changed into his oversized, hand-me-down clothes, thinking all the time, How did I forget that it was my birthday?

He came back downstairs to find that everyone had moved outside, where the long picnic tables had been set up with a large spread of brunch foods. "Wow," he said once again, amazed at all the trouble that everyone had gone to for him.

Bill, who had noticed how struck Harry was, came over to him and said, "Remember what I told you: the Weasley family loves surprises. Just keep enjoying it and lapping it up."

Other than that, there wasn't very much talking during brunch, as people were too busy stuffing their mouths with some of Mrs. Weasley's handiwork. After people had finished, Mrs. Weasley levitated out a massive chocolate-frosted cake with "Happy 15^th Birthday, Harry" written in green icing. Mr. Weasley lit the sixteen candles (one for good luck, of course) on top with a flick of his wand, and the group sang a rousing round of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow."

"Make a wish, Harry," Hermione said.

Those simple words from Hermione stopped Harry cold. He thought back to his experiences with the Mirror of Erised. I wish I could see my parents again, just for a moment, Harry thought, remembering also when he saw their ghostly echoes last year, but I know that can't happen. Then, he thought about why he was at the Burrow in the first place. Is it selfish of me to wish for that more than anything when Voldemort is back? Harry asked himself. I've got to stay here, in the present, he thought. Thinking back on the past won't get me anywhere. So, I wish that Voldemort will someday be permanently defeated. After a deep inhalation, Harry let out a great breath that extinguished all the candles. Everyone cheered and gave Harry a big round of applause.

"What'd you wish for?" Ron asked. "It sure took you long enough to decide."

"Don't be daft, Ron," said Ginny. "If he tells it, it won't come true."

"Quite right," said Sirius. "But I think a speech is in order at this point. Speech! Speech!"

Others took up the cry as Harry's stomach turned over. Harry gave Sirius a look that said, "I am so going to get you for this," and Sirius gave one back that clearly stated, "You'll have to catch me first."

"Er," Harry started as everyone fell silent. "Well, thanks, everyone, for coming. This really means a lot to me. I've never had anyone do anything like this for me before. Er--" He broke off as he contemplated what to say next. "When I was thinking about what to wish for, the first thing that came to my mind was to wish to see my parents again. I mean, that's all I've wanted since I was really young. That's what I saw when I looked into the Mirror of Erised for the first time. I know that that may be the one thing that I can't ever have. But, I realized that I have the next best thing right here, being with all my friends and people who care for me. That's all I really need, and it's the best birthday present I think I could get. Er, I think that's it. Thanks."

As he sat back down, the men applauded, and he saw Mrs. Weasley wiping tears from her eyes. Mr. Weasley took it upon himself to serve the cake as his wife composed herself.

As everyone was finishing off Mrs. Weasley's wonderful cake (which, Harry noted, tasted much better when it wasn't stale from being hidden under a floorboard for weeks), several owls swooped overhead and delivered letters to the twins, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Harry, and Percy, and packages to Harry and Sirius. All the letters except Percy's had the familiar Hogwarts crest on them. Harry opened his Hogwarts letter, skipped the brief introductory letter from Professor McGonagall, and went straight to the book list:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 5) by Miranda Goshawk

Advanced Non-Human Transfiguration by Mia Livenow

The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts by Tom Berbien

Preparing for the O.W.L.'s: a Study Guide and Practice Workbook (1995 edition) by Jasper Bonchance

Tarot for Beginners by P. Scott Hollander

A deck of non-enchanted, non-captioned Tarot cards, any system

As Harry looked up, he heard many things being said at the same time:

Ron: "That's not bloody fair!"

Hermione:

Percy: "Congratulations."

George: "Hey, cool."

Remus: "Is that--?"

Sirius: "Shhh, let's take it inside and check it out first."

Fred: "Hey, Perce, who's that letter from?"

Harry was very confused. "One at a time," he said. As he pointed his finger around the table, he said, "What's not fair; why are you gasping; who are you congratulating; what's cool; oh, they went inside; and who is that letter from, Percy?"

Even though this series of questions added to the confusion even more, it did put a kind of order on things.

"First, it's none of your business who that letter's from," said Percy.

"It's from Penelope then," said Fred definitively.

Percy scowled. "Secondly, I was congratulating Hermione on-- ouch!" Percy jumped. "Sorry, that's my PFC. I have to take this Floo." He whipped out a microphone-like device similar to Dumbledore's Personal Floo Communicator, flipped it open, and said, "Percy Weasley here" as he walked away from the picnic table.

"I guess I'll go next then," Hermione said beaming. "He was congratulating me on being made a prefect." She showed them her small, silver P pin.

"Oh, that's a real shocker," said Ron.

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione both shot Ron dirty looks, then Mrs. Weasley turned to Hermione and said, "That's wonderful, Hermione. Your parents will be very proud, I'm sure."

"Yeah, congratulations, Hermione," Harry said.

"Thank you, Harry," said Hermione. Ron scowled some more.

"Er, moving on," Harry said, sensing some tension between Ron and Hermione. "What's not fair, Ron?"

"Didn't you read your letter?" asked Ron. "We're not allowed to go to Hogsmeade this year."

"What?" Harry exclaimed as he read the letter from Professor McGonagall that he had skipped over before.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Please note that term begins on September first. The Hogwarts Express will leave platform 9 and 3/4 at King's Cross Station at eleven o'clock A.M.

Also, I must inform you at this time that new regulations regarding visits to Hogsmeade have gone into effect, and Fifth Years will no longer be allowed to go to the village. This rule is for the safety of you and your classmates, and we feel that it is necessary, given the current state of affairs.

A list of required books is also enclosed. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

"Don't worry," said George. "Fred and I are still allowed to go. We'll pick up things for you."

"For a nominal service fee of course," added Fred. "Er, just kidding," he said as murderous stares went in his direction, not the least of which came from his mother.

"If you even think of extorting money from your siblings or their friends like that, Frederick Weasley," she said, not having to finish her threat.

"Okay, who's left with news?" asked Harry

"Me," said George. "I'm the Gryffindor representative on the Graduation committee."

Percy trudged back up to the tables. "Sorry, Mum, but I have to leave. Emergency at the office."

"Are you still with the International Magical Cooperation Department?" asked Harry.

"No," scowled Percy. "There was a reorganization after Mr. Crouch disappeared. I've been temporarily assigned to the Improper Use of Magic Office. Apparently, some rising Sixth Years managed to get falsified Muggle Driving Licenses, got drunk in a bar, and started hexing the Muggles inside. I have to go write up their letters and a report to Hogwarts. Happy Birthday, Harry. Sorry I have to leave early."

"Thanks, Percy. I'll see you soon," said Harry as Percy Disapparated. "I hope they have clean records," Harry remarked. "I got a warning from that office once, and they said I could get expelled if it happened again."

"Er," said Arabella. "Sorry about that, Harry. I'm the one who reported you for that. But I maintain that it was for your own good."

"It's okay," Harry laughed. "It wasn't me though; it was a house-elf."

Arabella looked very confused. "What was a house-elf doing on Privet Drive?" she asked suspiciously.

"It's a long story," said Harry.

Fortunately Sirius and Remus saved Harry from having to recount his dramatic relationship with Dobby by coming outside with several wrapped packages.

"Time for presents," Sirius said, placing his load on the ground next to Harry.

Harry started with the package that had been dropped off with the post, which he assumed was Hagrid's. He opened it to find a clip to hold his wand that he could either attach to his belt or, with a band that came with it, to his arm. Harry immediately put it on his belt and slid his wand in, which he now carried with him at all times, and made a mental note to write Hagrid a thank-you note.

Next, Harry opened a small package from Ron, which turned out to be a rubber eraser that was half pink and half red. "Is it a Revealer?" he asked.

"The pink part's a Revealer, and the red part's an Obscurer," Ron explained. Then, he leaned in close and whispered to Harry, "It'll come in handy this year, trust me."

Harry gave Ron, who was sporting a mischievous grin, an odd look, but said, "Thanks, Ron. I'll try it out later," which made Ron grin even more. He then opened Hermione's gift, which was a book called The Color of Magic.

"Oh, Terry Pratchett," exclaimed Mr. Weasley. "He was in our class at Hogwarts, Molly."

"What? How could that be?" exclaimed Hermione. "He can't be a wizard; he explains magic entirely wrong."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "It's misinformation for Muggles, dear," she explained. "He gets them to think magic is all fantasy, so they don't think to look for it in reality."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Well, I think you'll enjoy the book anyway, Harry. It's rather funny. Plus, you need to read some fiction anyway."

"I read fiction," Harry said indignantly.

"Comic books don't count."

"Oh."

Ron laughed. "She's got you there, Harry."

Hermione turned to Ron. "Not like you can talk, Ron," she said. "And now I know what I'm going to get you for Christmas . . .."

Harry grinned at Ron's horrorstruck look. "Thanks, Hermione," he said as he moved to open the largest of the boxes beside him. The card told him that it was from the Weasley family, Remus, Arabella, and Sirius. Harry opened the box and found that it was filled with new Muggle clothes. Harry pulled out three pairs of jeans, several short-sleeved t-shirts in various colors, some socks and boxers, a new pair of sneakers, some shorts, and more. And, incredibly, all were exactly his size. It wasn't a lot of clothing, compared to what most people he knew had, but it made for a good travelling wardrobe.

Harry looked up at the adults around him, who were anxiously awaiting his reaction. "Wow, thank you all so much," he said with a huge smile. Unlike most teenagers, who detest getting clothes as presents, Harry, who had never had clothes bought especially for him before, loved them. "How did you know my sizes?" he asked.

"Ollivanders," Mrs. Weasley replied. "You told Ron that when you got your new wand, he took all your measurements over again. Normally, he doesn't give measurement information out, but we persuaded him to make an exception."

"Thanks. They're wonderful. I've never had new Muggle clothes before," Harry said, looking at his oversized hand-me-downs.

Sirius growled at Harry's last remark, and Arabella looked slightly guilty, but Remus shot them both glances that said, "Calm down. We're making up for it now."

"You're very welcome, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'm sure you'll find them, er, very useful."

Harry got the feeling that Mrs. Weasley knew something that he didn't, but he ignored it as he turned to his last gift, which was a small, unlabeled box. He opened it and found a gold watch that had two knobs on the side. "That's not just an ordinary Muggle watch, Harry," Sirius said. "If you click the top knob once, it switches to a message interface."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Click it and see," Sirius said.

Harry clicked the knob once, and the watch face disappeared. In its place came a black surface. Suddenly, a message appeared in gold cursive writing: "Time you had some fun." It reminded Harry of the clock in the Weasleys' kitchen. "And if you click it again," Sirius said, "it switches to locator mode."

Harry clicked the top knob again, and the watch face came back, but there were no hands. Then, Harry realized that there were words around the face instead of numbers, like the grandfather clock in the Weasleys' living room. "Mortal Peril" was still in the twelve spot, but most of the others were different. For example, "Class," "Library," "Dormitory," "Hospital Wing," and other places around Hogwarts.

"You use the second knob to set everything," Sirius explained excitedly. "You can use it to put your timetable into the message interface and add hands to the locator one. I'll show you how to set it up later."

Harry clicked it back to the standard time. "Thanks a lot, Sirius. I'm presuming this is from you, then; the box wasn't labeled. "

"Er," Sirius said. "Actually, it's not from me. I went in on the clothes."

"Well, who's it from, then?" Harry asked.

"Your father."

That was not an answer that Harry was expecting. "What? How?" he asked.

"Your grandfather gave James that watch for his fifteenth birthday," Remus said, "and James said that he was going to do the same for you. He even put it in his will."

"Is this what was in the package you got?" Harry asked Sirius.

"Yes, it was," Sirius admitted. "Remus and I wanted to clear the hands off the locator interface first, and reset it to how James had it set up at Hogwarts."

"We also fixed the back," said Remus.

Harry took the watch off and turned it over. There was an inscription on the back: "To James (Harry) on his 15^th birthday. Love, Dad."

Harry felt a warm feeling in his chest, almost like when he touched his new wand for the first time. "Thanks," Harry whispered to Remus and Sirius.

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Sirius. "Dumbledore sent this with the package. It must have been delivered to Hogwarts." He handed a piece of parchment to Harry.

Dear Mr. Harry Potter,

Your insurance claim on your Firebolt has been processed, and you may collect your new Firebolt immediately. Simply press firmly on the red dot on this parchment for ten seconds, release the parchment, stand back, and wait ten seconds. The parchment will Portkey a new Firebolt directly to you.

Thank you for using the Firebolt, the Racing Broom of the 21^st Century.

Sincerely,

Jonas Blur

Firebolt Broom Company Customer Relations Specialist

Harry grinned. "I think it's time to play some Quidditch."

*

Later that night, after Remus, Arabella, and Sirius had said their good-byes, Charlie and Bill had gone out with some friends, and Fred and George were safely in their room inventing, Mr. Weasley came over to Harry and Ron and said, "Boys, let's sit down in the kitchen and have a little chat." Harry and Ron looked at each other, shrugged, and went into the kitchen. When Mr. Weasley cast the Conicus Silencio spell, and Harry noted that Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny were alone in the other room, he figured out what was going on.

Yep, Harry was right. With a practiced air, Mr. Weasley laid out the facts of life for Ron and Harry. In keeping with the open-mindedness of the general wizarding population, and especially that of the Weasleys, who were tolerant of everybody (excepting Dark Wizards and Death Eaters, of course), he made sure he wasn't sexist or heterosexist. He also explained the various charms one uses for contraception and disease prevention. All in all, it was much less embarrassing that Harry had thought it would be, especially since Ron was there as well. Harry suspected that they'd probably have their own, private, guy talk tonight.

Mr. Weasley ended the spell and they rejoined the girls in the living room, who, clearly, had just gotten a similar talk from Mrs. Weasley. Though, Harry thought, I bet Hermione had read all about it already and just needed to know the spells.

After Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went to bed, Harry looked at his new watch and saw that it was 10:30. "I guess you're staying here, Hermione," Harry said.

"Just for the night," she replied. "Speaking of which, it's pretty late. I'm going to bed."

"Oh, Hermione," said Ginny. "Can you wait for just a minute? I want to show Harry something in my room. In private."

Harry looked a little nervous as he walked up to Ginny's room, especially considering the talk he had just been given. Ginny ducked into her room for a minute and came out with a small, wrapped package. "Happy Birthday, Harry," she said. "I wanted to give you this in private because I wanted to explain it so that you didn't take it the wrong way."

Harry was confused, but tore off the paper to reveal a small, black, dragonhide-bound, lined notebook and a white quill. "Thanks, Ginny," he said, slightly concerned because of the connection he and Ginny had with a certain similar diary.

"It has nothing to do with what happened with the Chamber of Secrets," Ginny explained as if reading Harry's mind. "It just seemed to me that you were carrying around a lot of thoughts, and I thought it might help if you had someplace to write them all down. The journal isn't charmed at all, in fact, but the quill is Self-Inking."

"Oh," said Harry, thinking that this was exactly what he needed at this point. He finally understood why Dumbledore had a Pensieve, and he was sure those were expensive, but this was the next best thing, and much cheaper, too. "You know me too well, Ginny," he said. "I didn't even think of something like this, but it's exactly what I need right now. Thanks a lot," he said with a smile.

Ginny returned the smile and was about to say something when Ron yelled from downstairs, "Hey, Potter, you finished snogging my sister yet?"

Ginny blushed, mumbled a quick, "Ohyou'rewelcomegoodnight," retreated to her room, and closed the door.

"Er, night, Ginny," Harry said to the door as Ron and Hermione came upstairs. "That wasn't her present to me, Ron," Harry said in an annoyed fashion and showed them the journal and quill.

"Good," said Ron. "Because if I were to ever catch you snogging my sister, I wouldn't be responsible for my actions."

"It's not nice to beat up people smaller than you," Harry said.

Ron grinned evilly. "Whatever. Race you to my room." Harry and Ron ran upstairs, their footsteps echoing throughout the whole house.

Hermione sighed. "Boys," she said exasperatedly as she knocked on Ginny's door.

*******